


The Red Emperor

by Vanamiya



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 07:23:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3281894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanamiya/pseuds/Vanamiya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haunted objects are no laughing matter. They are dangerous. Or maybe just a little lonely, who knows?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Red Emperor

**Author's Note:**

> This was a present for someone on tumblr for the knb secret santa. Unfortunately, they have pretty much closed off their blog and I don't know their name on AO3. If you happen to read this, I would love to credit it properly as your present!
> 
> I can't help but think that this fanfic seems more like the first chapter to something bigger and I really want to write more when I have the time and muse. We will have to see.
> 
> Please enjoy!

His eyes stared into nothing. A nothing he was accustomed to. It was the way things were supposed to be. Most of the time anyway. But how he wanted to move and stretch his limbs. How he wanted to taste air and see the sky again. But he stared into the distance, the wall at the other end of the room where his brethren hung. A gold cage limited his world. And the humans, oh the humans. Such fickle creatures. They saw him and stared in awe, in fear. They evaluated him with calculating eyes. There were some who wanted to buy him, yet they were shot down every time. He wasn't available for purchase.  
  
Cursed.  
  
That was what they called him. With good reason, one might add. But he wanted nothing more than to continue his existence, however miserable it was. He wouldn't stop dreaming of seeing the sky one day. He wouldn't stop believing that he could escape this cage and the thin wall that separated him from the rest of the world. He would simply have to wait. If there was one thing he had, it was time.  


* * *

  
Kouki trembled, however slightly, trying not to show his friends how scared he really was. There was a rumor going around about a haunted painting at the local art museum and having recently gotten into creepy stories about haunted objects, Fukuda and Kawahara had wanted to come here as soon as possible to check it out. Kouki had not wanted to be part of this. In fact, when they had confessed their plans to him, he had given them a lengthy lecture about how you don't mess with these things. Needless to say, it hadn't worked.  
  
So now that they were here and buying tickets, there wasn't much he could still do about it. The rooms they walked through were brightly lit yet there was still something eerie about it. Not in a sinister way but rather... desolate. Fukuda and Kawahara didn't seem to notice but Kouki was attentive and just a little sensitive when it came to these kinds of feelings. No haunted painting yet but the ones that they passed seemed to follow their every move, whispering in unheard languages, pleading and begging for something unspeakable.  
  
There was a painting of a blue haired man. He was in a fighting stance, ready to throw a punch or two. He seemed wild and feral, his eyes defined and almost glowing. Kouki spared him only a glance before continuing on his way, a cold shiver running down his spine.  
  
Another piece had a man with impeccable posture and his eyes stern and focused. He was a doctor, though his fingers were bound with white tapes and in his hand he held a human heart. The style was similar to the first picture if not to say exactly the same. This made Kouki curious and he briefly checked the name of the artist. Fujimaki Tadatoshi. Well, this man surely had a lot of talent, even if he seemed to like using it to create feelings of fear in the hearts of his viewers.  
  
He had not wanted to come here and yet here he was, intimidated yet incredibly intrigued by these mysterious paintings. His friends and the haunted painting were mostly forgotten for now, instead he started his own little journey along white walls and through the rooms to find all the paintings of this Fujimaki. And he didn't get disappointed.  
  
There was one of a beautiful blond man. He had men and women around him, marveling at his beauty, yet their eyes were empty and their smiles seemed unnatural. Almost like dolls. He was in the middle, beautiful and precious like a gem. His smile didn't reach his eyes.  
  
Another one depicted a man with purple hair who picked apples from a tree. There were people next to him who seemed quite hungry, they tried to grab the branches but couldn't reach them. He was the tallest by far, yet instead of sharing, he ate all of the apples himself without a care.  
  
Kouki would almost have missed the next one, it was so unremarkable. No, that wasn't quite true. That was only the case on first glance. It showed a boy with bright blue hair and a neutral expression on his face. The background was dark and only when you looked really closely did you notice how it was actually a gigantic shadow coming from the boy. For some reason, this one gripped his heart in a way he couldn't describe. He needed to keep going.  
  
“You seem to be quite interested in these pictures.”  
  
Despite coming out of nowhere, the sudden voice sounded so smooth and pleasant that Kouki didn’t almost die of a heart attack, turning and finding a man who had to be as beautiful as any of the paintings at this museum. As if a priceless marble sculpture had decided to come to life and work here instead. His name tag read “Mibuchi Reo”.  
  
“Uhm... yeah. They are very...” He didn't know how describe them. Mibuchi simply laughed. It was a beautiful sound.  
  
“Aren't they? I completely fell in love with them the first time I saw them. But you haven't seen the last one yet.”  
  
“The last one?”  
  
“Yes, I watched you for quite some time now so I know that you have only seen five paintings. It's actually a series of six pieces called “The Miracles”. Each picture depicts one miracle. Have you read their names? They   are “The Blue Beast”, “The Green Determination”, “The Yellow Beauty”, “The Purple Giant” and “The Black Shadow”.”  
  
Kouki had completely forgotten to read the names but now that those words got carried to him in such a smooth voice, he couldn't help but shiver again. Those names were just so fitting. Yet there was still one unanswered question.  
  
“What's the last one called?”  
  
A smile appeared on Mibuchi's lips.  
  
“Why don't you take a look at it and find out for yourself? Follow me.”  
  
Unable to decline this offer, Kouki followed. He needed to see the last one, it almost felt like a burning desire that made him quicken his step and pumped blood through his veins. The last part of this series. He had a faint feeling that it was going to be the most important part.  
  
They headed straight for the wall at the far back, a wall that seemed almost abandoned because it housed no paintings except one, right in the middle. And as much as Kouki's curiosity had him in its grip, there was another part of him screaming at the back of his head, warning him to not come any closer. But it was too late.  
  
Beneath the golden frame, a tag read “The Red Emperor” and there was no way to better describe this picture. The canvas was soaked in vibrant, glaring color that resembled blood and love alike. A red cape, red gems on a golden crown, a red throne and finally, a red eye next to a golden one. Those eyes. They weren't only following him, they pierced right into his soul. His thoughts became jumbled, screaming for order in his head but there was one thing and one thing alone that he was absolutely sure of.  
  
He had found the haunted painting.  
  
A lump had formed in Kouki's throat but he only noticed once he found his breath again and tried to swallow. It took him longer to realize that he had held his breath in the first place.  
  
“He is quite the sight to behold isn't he? Don't worry, many people react like this when they see him for the first time.”  
  
Mibuchi's voice was like an anchor, one that was needed more than ever. Was he trembling? He didn't know.  
  
“Why is he... alone at the very back?” Kouki's words weren't more than a mere breath. He was still staring at those eyes, the emperor had him completely in his grip.  
  
“Oh, Sei-chan is a bit of a diva, you know? When he is together with other paintings, they start to fade more quickly. At first we had all six paintings together on one wall. But... let's say we had our reasons to change that arrangement and put them all far away from each other.”  
  
It sounded as if Mibuchi was talking about the weather and not some incredibly unsettling phenomenon that had no kind of logical explanation whatsoever. Though at least Kouki managed to have enough courage to pull his eyes away from the emperor.  
  
“Sei-chan?”  
  
“Ah yes, The Red Emperor is a person that truly existed. They all are. And his name was Akashi Seijuurou. I like to call him Sei-chan though. I think he is okay with that, he hasn't protested so far.”  
  
Kouki wasn't too sure if he should be amazed by how casually Mibuchi talked about something supposedly haunted or if he should call him mad for treating a painting like a person. He wanted to answer something, anything, yet it seemed like words failed him right now, so his gaze wandered back to the emperor. Now that he was past his first fear, he had to admit that this man was... beautiful. He wasn't as tall or imposing looking as most of the others with exception of the Shadow. He almost seemed too small for the throne he was sitting upon. But only almost. There was no question that he belonged right there. His strength and greatness came from somewhere else. That was actually even more impressive.  
  
“I will leave you two alone then. Don't stare at him too much, alright? Leave if you think that you angered him.”  
  
The last bit sounded startlingly serious. As if there was no doubt in Mibuchi's mind that something bad would happen to Kouki if he somehow managed to offend Akashi. Then again, that was usually the deal with haunted objects. Someone didn't play by the rules. Someone dared to sit on a cursed chair or invited some ghost into their house. Kouki really wanted to heed these words, he liked his life like it currently was, without some curse lingering on him.  
  
Without the employee of the museum to keep him company, it suddenly got so much harder to turn away from the painting though. He tried and wanted to leave but he always stopped in his movements and turned back to stare some more. As if the curse had already gripped him.  
  
His friends were surely already looking for him. He needed to find them. And the third try to walk back seemed successful so far. Yes, he could do it.  
  
“...Don't leave...”  
  
A chill washed over him, freezing him on the spot. That voice didn't belong to Mibuchi. And there was no person anywhere close enough to be the origin of that voice. He had his back to Akashi. No he didn't want to look at him. This wasn't true and if Kouki kept walking, he could simply forget about this and never visit a museum in his life ever again.  
  
Something that definitely wasn't his own free will made him spin himself around after all. The Red Emperor stared at him. But it was different from before. There was a shine in his eyes. Oh yeah, and he was blinking.  
  
Kouki was sure he was going to faint any moment, a feeling of panic was gripping his chest and his body tensed completely while warm and cold shivers traveled whichever way they pleased. That was his end. Now his soul would get eaten.  
  
The Red Emperor seemed to examine him with interest. Taking in everything from the trembling feet to the widened eyes.  
  
“Come closer.”  
  
Oh no, he was definitely not going to come any closer. He wasn't going to become the first victim in a horror movie. But what would happen to him if he refused to obey? This guy was an emperor, right? He didn't want to upset someone so royal who probably knew nothing but obedience.  
  
“I-I'm very sorry... b-but I don't know you and... u-usually paintings can't talk so I-I can't trust you...”  
  
Akashi contemplated this. He seemed rather surprised, as if he hadn't expected an answer like that. But his face showed no anger. That was good, right?  
  
“Fair enough. You can stay where you are. But tell me your name at least. You already know mine.”  
  
Kouki had to admit, now that the painting was actually talking to him and he had gotten over initial shock... it didn't seem that frightening anymore. It was more surreal than anything. There was still something eerie about the emperor of course but... Kouki managed. He took a deep breath. It was shaky but he would at least be able to stop stuttering.  
  
“Furihata Kouki.”  
  
“Well then, Kouki. It's a pleasure to meet you. Not many stay after I call out to them.”  
  
It was amazing how Akashi managed to move inside the painting. Almost as if it wasn't a canvas at all but just a screen and they were having a video conversation. He somehow got the desire to touch the fabric and see for himself but luckily he caught the thought before he could get into trouble for doing something like that.  
  
“Ah, yes... nice to meet you too?”  
  
He wasn't too sure what to talk about with a painting, actually. So he just stared for a moment, his brows furrowing in thought.  
  
“So, you... are you a ghost maybe? The real Emperor Akashi?”  
  
Akashi tilted his head, contemplating the question for a bit.  
  
“I'm not too sure. My memory is hazy. I have forgotten many things. How air tastes when you breathe. What the sky outside looks like. Humans are not really helpful.”  
  
“You're trapped in this picture then?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
There was a flicker in Akashi's eyes. It was gone as quickly as it came but Kouki happened to catch it. Suddenly this emperor didn't seem scary at all but rather... lonely. He felt bad for him to be honest.  
  
“...why did you talk to me? Can I help you somehow?”  
  
“Yes. Come closer. Touch me.”  
  
So that was what it had been about? Kouki contemplated this again. Granted, he really DID want to touch the canvas, even if he knew that it was forbidden to do so. And he feared the talking painting less than before but there was a reason why they called it haunted, right? Of course, there was the fact that other pictures faded around him and that he may have called out to other people as well but... something still didn't feel right here. Kouki's sense for danger tingled. He stayed quiet for a bit, neither moving nor talking.  
  
“I understand. It is not your duty to do anything for me. You asked how you could help me and I gave you an answer. You can choose not to do it and leave me to my fate.”  
  
“No! No... I'll help you.”  
  
Those words left his lips on pure impulse and he regretted saying them as soon as he had. Though somehow something had changed on Akashi's face, it perked up, just slightly. It made a shiver of a different kind run through Kouki. He couldn't deny that Akashi was incredibly beautiful, even for a painting. Some foolishly unafraid part of him really did want to help him and get to know him better. Maybe it was really Akashi who was the cursed one. He didn't even know what the sky looked like anymore. Kouki wanted to show him the sky and see his reaction. He was sure it was going to be breathtaking.  
  
So he came closer, ever so slowly, with small steps. He swallowed another lump in his throat. That was already the second one today. Closer. Closer. Now he only needed to stretch out his hand. Akashi watched him intently. His fingers and the surface were mere centimeters apart.  
  
“What do you think you're doing?”  
  
The noise Kouki made could only be described as the screech of a pterodactyl. He whipped around to find a rather unamused looking Mibuchi standing there with a hand resting on his hip.  
  
“I think that was enough sightseeing for you today, you even forgot that you look with your eyes, not your hands.”  
  
“Uhm, I...”  
  
Searching for help, Kouki glanced at Akashi but the emperor was back to his previous regal pose, nothing indicated that he had ever come to life. Of course.  
  
Sighing, Kouki had no other choice but to let himself get thrown out of the museum.  


* * *

  
A little while after the museum closed its gates for the day, a certain employee made his way to the cursed painting.  
  
“Sei-chan, I don't know what you're planning but I'm telling you to knock that idea right out of your head again. That is a nice boy. Just leave him alone. You probably don't even mean any harm but you know what happens when you get out of line. Just be a good painting, alright?”  
  
No answer. There was a sigh and steps that became fainter and soon the lights went out completely.  
  
“Sei-chan” didn't need to answer any of that. He knew that the boy would come back to him. He simply needed to be patient. If there was one thing he had, it was time.


End file.
